Morning
by Cricket24
Summary: Sequel to "Home". Logan is glad to be home....and shows Scott just how glad.


_**Title:** Morning - (sequel to "Home")_

_**Author:** Cricket24_

_**Rating:** M (NC-17)_

_**Pairing:** Scott / Logan_

_**Summary:** Logan is glad to be home . . . and shows Scott just _how_ glad._

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one._

_**Reviews:** Welcome and appreciated._

* * *

I woke to the sound of soft humming. I blinked my eyes open and stared up at the crisp, white ceiling trying to orient myself. Where was I today? The humming was replaced by whistling. Ahh. I grinned. I was home in my soft, warm bed, waking to the sound of my lover cheerfully getting ready for class.

Rolling over, I spotted the bathroom door ajar. The smell of soap and Scott reached my nose. I felt the growl start deep in my belly as I rose and stalked across the room. I was hungry . . . and not for food. And I would never have forgiven myself if I'd slept through my favorite pastime.

Scott jumped slightly as I pushed the bathroom door open with a bit of force and it snapped against the tile wall. A towel had been wrapped around his slim waist and he was still damp from his recent shower. Looked as if he'd just finished shaving as I entered the small space. His sleeping goggles were already replaced with ruby quartz sunglasses. He was just too damn pretty for his own good.

"Logan." He smiled. "Didn't think you'd be up this early."

The smile faltered when I didn't reply. We stood in silence for a few endless seconds before he finally cleared his throat.

"I missed you."

He barely whispered it, but I heard every word like a shotgun blast.

"I missed you too, bub."

He blushed at my words, and I was a goner. So was he. He just didn't know it yet.

I crowded behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. The two of us made quite a contrast in the mirror. The lanky boy in the white terrycloth towel against the burly man in the navy blue boxers. The smooth, clean-cut prettyboy against the rough, disheveled wildman. But, _Jesus,_ we fit like a glove.

I dipped my head and let my lips wander down the side of his neck. Scott sighed and leaned back against me. I took that as a free invitation to roam, so I did. I sank my teeth into the tendon at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He hissed and arched back while my hands slid up the inside of his thighs, creeping under the base of the towel. My fingers barely brushed his family jewels before he cried out.

"Ahh! Log—an . . . mmmm . . . wait!" He pulled away from me gasping for breath. "I can't do this right now. I'm – I'm gonna be late."

And before I had a chance to drown his protests, he disappeared into the dim bedroom.

Oh. Hell. No. He did _not_ just walk away from me.

Growling with frustration, I stormed into the room behind him. He turned and opened his mouth to say something. And I plundered. My tongue delved deep into the cavern of his sweet mouth, our teeth clattering together noisily. My arms wrapped so tightly around him I could feel each rib as he breathed. Scott tried to push me away, hands shoving at my chest. But I was not going to give in. He was _mine_. He moaned in protest until I reached one hand under the towel again and grabbed hold. There was a quick, unmanly squeak of shock and then finally a whimper of acquiescence. I growled again, this time in victory.

I backed him towards our bed, devouring as much of him as I could along the way. As soon as his back hit the bedcovers I whipped the confining towel off of his hips. My boy stretched out and glowed gloriously naked before me. A feast for the eyes . . . and mouth.

For three weeks I'd staved myself. Three weeks I'd dreamed of soft, creamy skin under my fingertips, hard, pebbled nipples under my tongue, searing, wet heat surrounding my cock, Scott's name on my lips. Fuck starving and fuck dreams. Reality blew them all to hell.

Ripping off my boxers, I pounced onto my prey. Earlier this morning - while I held him as he slept – the time was for tenderness and loving. Right now it was for pure, violent sex. Right now I was going to eat him alive . . . and make him enjoy every savage second of it.

My mind clouded with the scent of apples, spices and Scott as I bit at his chin and jaw. My tongue laved his neck and chest, sucking on each puckered nipple, making my boy writhe, making him moan. His hands slid and scraped frantically across my back searching for purchase, and he trembled and arched as I played at his abs and navel, licking, sucking, tickling.

"Logan, _please!_"

Grinning, I continued with my sweet torture. I loved to hear him beg.

Giving him no warning, I engulfed his rigid cock to the root. His scream could have probably been heard from two floors below. But I didn't stop. He tasted too damn good. I vaguely heard his incoherent mumblings and moans as I licked and nibbled my fill, feasting on him like the starving man I was. His fingers tightened in my hair. I knew he was close.

I pulled back and began to kiss my way up Scott's quivering, sweat-slicked body. He groaned in frustration as his hands pulled at my hair. His breathing was heavy and labored, his face and body flushed from exertion. He was beautiful.

I nuzzled his ear and flicked my tongue against the lobe.

"Scott," I whispered. "Look at me, Scott."

He obeyed, turning his head to look at me. I couldn't see his eyes behind their quartz prison, but I knew they were locked with my own. His head snapped back and he gasped when I grabbed his sensitive cock in my fist.

"Look. At. Me." I said it again, firmly this time. Whimpering meekly, he did so. "I came back for you. Now you come for me."

My fist contracted around his shaft and I pumped. Once, twice, faster and harder. It took only seconds, but I watched my lover's face contort in pleasure and sweet, sweet pain as he flew apart, erupting over himself and my hand.

I wanted to savor the moment, I wanted to watch my boy come down from the sensual high, but my raging libido would have none of that. I slid my hand though the warm come on his chest and belly and slicked it onto my own shaft. Flipping Scott none to gently, I positioned him onto his stomach and he raised his tight little ass in the air. Quaking fingers entered him, stretching him slowly. After everything I just put him through, I didn't want to hurt him now. Moaning, he pushed back against my fingers.

"Now, Logan. I want you in me now."

I needed no further encouragement. I positioned myself behind him and slid my cock home. We both cried out from the intense sensation. His moist, slick heat gripped me like a vice while my body quivered in sheer blissful agony. Then I bent forward and locked my teeth to the base of Scott's neck. And rode.

I came fast and hard, growling furiously. Bright neon colors flashed beneath my closed lids. I was alive and I was fulfilled. _God_, if only to be able to stay in that moment forever. But, once sated, I collapsed atop my lover. Unable to hold our combined weight, Scott crumpled beneath me.

Both of us lay that way for a while, just breathing, just being. When I found the strength, I rolled off of him and pulled him into my arms. He kissed my neck and shoulder lethargically, nuzzling me, comforting me.

I wasn't kidding when I said I'd missed him. It felt damn good to be home.

The room was brighter now, the morning sun's rays warming our cooling bodies. Feeling content and satisfied, I was reminded again of how much I truly loved this place, this _school_. Of course, I'd never admit that to anyone out loud. Not even to Scott. But I think he already knew. And I was pretty sure he knew how I felt about him, too, even when not engaging him in incredible, fierce morning sex.

I felt Scott's body stiffen.

"Oh shit." His head jerked up as he searched for the bedside alarm clock. "What time is it?" A pause as he focused on the tiny red numbers. "_Godammit!_"

He leaped off the bed and raced full out towards the bathroom, his tight, naked ass jiggling all the way. My cock twitched at the sight. Seemed I just couldn't get enough.

"What's the matter, Slim?" I called, even though I knew damn well what the matter was.

He shouted back to me over the spray of the shower, "I'm already five fucking minutes late for my first class!"

I only smiled, sighed, and relaxed beneath the bedcovers, humming my own soft tune.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**_Look for the sequel to this story entitled "Three". (Rated T)_


End file.
